


And Everybody Used to Call You Lucky

by Redrikki



Series: Queen of Lower Chelsea [2]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Ultimate Universe, Marvel Ultimates, Spider-Man (Ultimateverse)
Genre: Clones, Drug Dealing, Dubious Ethics, Gen, Identity Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 10:32:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1815367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrikki/pseuds/Redrikki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter can afford to do the right thing, but Jessica doesn't have that luxury.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Everybody Used to Call You Lucky

Back when she (Peter) was still in school, everybody used to bitch and moan about how broke they were. They were so broke they couldn’t afford that $100 pair of basketball shoes, iPhone, or whatever. Even Peter would whine about how web fluid was so expensive he could barely afford to eat out for the third time that week. Then he’d leave his awesome, if minimum wage, job and have a home-cooked meal in a house with a working shower and a sweet little lab in the basement. 

Jessica wishes she were that broke.

*****

So, it turns out that when you’re a teenager who doesn’t exist on paper it’s really hard to get a job or housing or government assistance. Or pretty much anything really. In the first few weeks after escaping the lab, Jessica depends on the kindness of strangers as she bounces around various homeless shelters. After a month, Peters’ comfy bed in Queens and the taste of Aunt May’s meatloaf are just fond memories that aren’t even hers. 

She’s ten minutes shy from doing something desperate and stupid when she finally lands a bike messenger job at Ultimate Courier. Jessica doesn’t own a bike, but she gets the deliveries done and no one wants to look a gift spider in the mouth. They just pay her less than minimum wage plus tips under the table with no questions asked. She spends her days swinging packages through the city with the occasional breaks for crime fighting and spends her nights sleeping exhausted in an abandoned warehouse with a couple of other kids. It sucks, like, a lot, but at least it’s too warm to freeze to death. 

And that’s Jessica’s life, a hand-to-mouth existence. There’s no time for school or dreams of college. There’s no chance at revenge or bringing the bastards responsible for her creation to justice. All there is is survival. 

Then, everything changes when the Fire Nation attacks. 

Jessica is swinging through Chelsea on the way back from a delivery run when she sees the smoke billowing from an apartment building. Fire engines are on their way, but she spots a guy trying to scramble out of a fourth floor window over looking the alley. Jessica pulls up her mask and swings to the rescue. 

The bricks are hot under her hands as Jessica clings to the wall just below the window. “Never fear, under—” She breaks off as she gets a good look at what’s in the room behind the man. The place is filled with smoke and a scene out of _Breaking Bad._

“I blame Bryan Cranston for making this sexy. A meth lab in a residential building! What were you thinking?” She yells as she pulls the man clear of the window sill and swings down to the street. He struggles against her like he seriously doesn’t want to be rescued. 

“Let me go, you stupid bitch,” the guy shouts and shoves her away as soon as they touch down. Story of her life, but that’s gratitude for you. 

“What?” Jessica snaps. It’s been a long day and she doesn’t have the patience to deal with stupid drug dealers who can’t handle basic chemistry. “Your kid in there?”

“Joey’s got my damn money in there,” the drug dealer yells over the sound of the approaching fire engine. 

Jessica sighs and starts climbing. The heat is intense once she makes it back through the window and the smoke makes it nearly impossible to see. Her first breath burns all the way down and she know it would be worse without the slim protection of her mask. She rushes through the kitchen, past the crappily-constructed equipment and burning boxes of Sudafed, looking for the missing Joey. She finds him slumped unconscious in a bedroom over looking the street. He has a backpack, presumably one full of the dealer’s damn money, and Jessica scoops them both up before diving out the nearest window. 

The partner is no where to be seen but a few other tenants are mixing with the emergency personnel and the usual crowd of looky lous. “Is there anyone else?” Jessica asks as she drops Joey off with the EMTs. 

“Thanks, um, Spider, ah, person,” says the female EMT. “The firemen are clearing the building now.”

The Fire Department guys have protective gear and the situation well in hand so she leaves them to it. On a nearby roof, Jessica counts through the money in the drug dealer’s backpack. There must be over ten-thousand dollars. With that kind of money Jessica could get a high-quality fake ID. She could rent an apartment with running water and a place to cook food worth eating. With that kind of money, she could stop just surviving and start getting things done. 

Jessica stands with a packet of twenties clutched in either fist and knows what Peter would do. Peter would have turned it over to the police. Peter would have let it burn. Then he would have gone home to his nice little house in Queens where there was always food in the fridge and a bed with his name on it. Peter can afford to do the right thing, but Peter isn’t here. Jessica takes her stolen drug money and goes apartment hunting.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song "Stay Lucky" by Gaslight Anthem.


End file.
